Volume One, Chapter Eight: Becoming a BA.

A decade of experience had already taught Jiang Chen that sometimes fists were far more effective than words—the truth being, after all, that words are never as hard as knuckles. If you won’t speak, then the fists will batter the truth out of you.

Tong Yan stepped back at just the right moment, her eyes shining with little stars of adoration. Unwittingly, Jiang Chen had fulfilled a young girl’s childhood longing for a great hero.

The humanoid creature released the shadow of baleful energy it had been holding and, in a blink, lunged forward—so quickly that even Tong Yan at the side couldn’t see what had happened.

“Little Celestial Master, be careful!” Tong Yan shouted.

Jiang Chen stood expressionless where he was. For a fleeting instant, Tong Yan thought she saw him move, but it was so brief she couldn’t tell whether it was an illusion or if Jiang Chen had truly shifted.

With a dull thud, the humanoid creature seemed to crash into a thick, invisible barrier and could go no further.

It staggered, dazed and disoriented, its vision completely blurred. At the same time, a hundred miles away, a man in black ceremonial robes felt a stabbing pain in his chest, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

With another wave of the robed man’s hand, the puppet regained its mobility.

A sardonic smile curled Jiang Chen’s lips. “With such paltry skill, even a random apprentice from Mount Dragon and Tiger who knows the puppet arts could play you to death. I never thought the first thing I’d have to slaughter upon entering the world would be such a beast.”

For Jiang Chen, who had witnessed blades and bloodshed, mountains of corpses and seas of blood from his teenage years, carrying out assignments had always been an opportunity for his masters to temper him. He’d never killed by his own will; if his master said to kill, he killed—though the targets were always deserving. Yet Jiang Chen had never before decided someone’s life or death by his own hand.

Before he left the mountain, his masters had repeatedly instructed him to be compassionate, but not to the point of foolish saintliness.

Therefore...

Boom—

On the rooftop, golden light blazed forth, splitting into countless beams that pierced the previously oppressive sky, leaving holes of brilliant daylight.

Tong Yan was stunned, but what shocked her even more was what came next. The battle ended in an instant—Jiang Chen stood with one foot on the puppet’s torso, its body riddled with holes, lying motionless and silent.

The hand seals in Jiang Chen’s hands faded away. His face was neither joyful nor sorrowful, only calm and composed.

“Such a weakling, and I didn’t even use any strength,” he sighed, shaking his head. He hadn’t held back, and the puppet was dead instantly. If he’d been more restrained, he could have captured it for questioning, but now it was too late.

People of the mundane world were fundamentally different from him. Entering the world meant abiding by its rules, but people like Jiang Chen could sometimes set their own. To kill or not to kill depended entirely on his mood.

Clearly, the Gu Master behind all this deserved death. It was a pity he couldn’t destroy the original body—and that meant the trail had gone cold. Nonetheless, after this encounter, the Gu Master should be gravely injured, and if he tried to cause more trouble in Qing City, Jiang Chen would be there to stop him.

Having dealt with the puppet, Jiang Chen turned to the mass of baleful energy. “Now you can tell your story.”

Tong Yan hadn’t seen the fight clearly, but the baleful spirit had witnessed every detail. Jiang Chen’s terrifying power made its very soul tremble with fear; it was certain that, with a single breath, this Celestial Master could disperse its already tattered soul into dust.

“With your insight, Celestial Master, please listen: I was once a worker from Shanhe Village, came to Qing City for a job, and then one night...”

In nearly five minutes of recounting, Jiang Chen pieced together the gist of what had happened. This poor fellow’s name was Li Guangjun, a diligent laborer who took on a project in Qing City. By chance, he overheard something he shouldn’t have, and died mysteriously the next day.

Li Guangjun’s account was hazy—he couldn’t remember much, only that after he became a baleful spirit, a single thought filled his mind:

To kill.

Unfortunately, his first target turned out to be Tong Million, a charitable soul blessed with great fortune. That good man survived by virtue of his fate.

From this, Jiang Chen understood that the Gu Master behind the scenes was no weakling, but after being gravely wounded would likely keep a low profile for a while. Li Guangjun was a pitiful man—come to the city to earn more money, only to be framed and killed for overhearing a secret by accident.

His memory had likely been eroded after being refined into a spirit, or deliberately erased—what remained was trivial at best.

“Li Guangjun,” Jiang Chen said, “I will send you into the cycle of reincarnation and help clear your injustice. How do you feel about that?”

Li Guangjun bowed his head in silence for a moment before replying, “Celestial Master, may I see my children once more before I go? I can’t let go of my worries about them.”

Jiang Chen’s heart tightened. It was against the way of heaven for a spirit to remain outside the cycle, but Li Guangjun was blameless—his fate unfinished. There was no harm in letting him stay a while longer.

“I grant your request,” Jiang Chen replied, producing a jade pendant. “You may rest in this for now. When your wish is fulfilled, I will guide you into reincarnation.”

Li Guangjun trembled all over, his form flickering unsteadily. “Thank you, Celestial Master!” he choked out.

With a wave of Jiang Chen’s hand, a golden ray enveloped Li Guangjun’s shadowy shape, drawing the black mist into the jade. A faint ink-like sheen appeared on the surface.

This incident had yielded few leads; the Gu Master was exceedingly cautious. Though he hadn’t destroyed Li Guangjun outright, he’d wiped his memory clean of anything useful.

Jiang Chen could only take things one step at a time. The good news was that after this clash, he’d caught a faint thread—if he crossed paths with the Gu Master again, he was confident he could end him.

When all was done, Tong Yan came over and asked, “Little Celestial Master, is it... over?”

Jiang Chen nodded. “Not entirely, but your father’s illness is cured. He just needs to rest, and he’ll recover fully.”

Tong Yan breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. So, do you have any plans now?”

Plans?

Jiang Chen took a breath. He realized he’d none at the moment. His senior sister was still missing, so he couldn’t leave Qing City and needed to establish himself here.

“I’m planning to find a job, preferably something that puts me in contact with a lot of people,” he said.

“A job with lots of people...” Tong Yan tapped her fair chin, then brightened. “I know just the thing—not only will you meet plenty of people, you’ll get lots of clues too.”

Jiang Chen was curious. “What kind of job?”

With a mischievous smile, Tong Yan replied, “Come work as a BA at my company.”

“And... what’s a BA?”

“Security guard.”